Engendered Species is a social group based in Salt Lake City, Utah for all types of transgendered people and their friends and partners. I have been a member of this group for about a year. This group goes everywhere, not just to restaurants or private meeting places. From July 24 until July 27, I joined the group on an excursion to Pocatello, Idaho.
Since there are no resources for transgendered people in Pocatello, a few people living there have joined the Salt Lake City group. One of the Pocatello members is considering starting a branch of the group there, so we decided to take a trip there and see what the place is all about. For most of us, it was a camping trip - we stayed in mountains just south of Pocatello, but we came down into town many times. We went shopping, ate at restaurants, and all except me attended a drag show in Pocatello's only gay bar. (I could not go to the show because I am allergic to cigarette smoke.) A highlight of the trip was a photo shoot at the Greek-style pillars on the hill overlooking Idaho State University - a prominent Pocatello landmark. Everything went well on what was perhaps the first official transgender group activity in Pocatello; I hope this is the first of many. The tranny gang has invaded, explored, and marked its territory. Pocatello will never be the same!
On the first day, three of us drove up from Salt Lake City and we headed to the campground. Three more came in from Pocatello, and we all drove into town for dinner that night. One person had not dined in a restaurant dressed before, so it was a new and scary experience. Four of us went to the campground for the night. The second day, we spent the morning at camp, and later we went into town to check out the pillars on the hill. Overheated from climbing that hill in hot weather, we went to the mall to cool down. The only mall in town, it is not very large, but there is some good shopping there. Later, we went back to camp for dinner and went to bed. On the third day, two more people from Salt Lake City arrived at the camp, and we went to nearby Lava Hot Springs to look in the shops, see the museum, and wander around town. We ate dinner at camp again, and then everyone but me went to the gay bar to see the drag show. I wish I could have gone, as everyone said that it was an excellent show. Finally, on the fourth day, we had breakfast at a restaurant in Pocatello, went back to the hill for a photo shoot, and then we broke camp and headed back to Salt Lake. It was a great trip, and especially considering the potentially hostile nature of Idaho's conservative culture, it went very well. Even when we were read (which often happens with a large group), we were treated just like anybody else. Perhaps there is hope for southeastern Idaho; maybe the culture is more tolerant than the reputation would indicate. I hope this is the first of many group activities to take place there, and I wish the Pocatello members luck in setting up a branch of the group there. Transgendered people in the region certainly need the support.
In Praise of Mister Stinky
We all know and love Mr. Stinky, the camper's friend. It is a familiar story - nature calls and you go to the familiar little building, open the door and go in, only to be confronted by a terrible, piercing odor and the gaping maw of a toilet opening into the Pit of Despair. "What is down there?" asks your inquisitive mind, but you really do not want to know. You feed Mr. Stinky as quickly as you can and exit the building, gasping for breath. But you have not escaped. The wind blowing from Mr. Stinky spreads his cheery odor far and wide. Getting some distance away provides relief, but it is only temporary; Mr. Stinky has a voracious appetite and he must be fed again and again. He is as much a part of a campground as the picnic tables, water source, and groomed tent sites, and he is both loved and hated by all who visit. He greedily takes in all that enters his pit, and he is quite possessive, giving back only the vile odors generated within. The man who loses his hat in the Pit of Despair shall pay dearly if he should attempt to retrieve it. According to the story of one of the group's members, a man did just that, and he paid for his mistake by swimming for his life in the foul liquid below. Mr. Stinky did not give him back willingly, and he was lucky to get out at all. So everybody, just remember this. What Mr. Stinky takes, he keeps. Hold your nose, do your business, and get out as quickly as possible, or you may become his next meal.Mister Stinky Is the Best,
Smellier Than All the Rest!